Ill on the First School Day in the New Year
by Minerva McGonagall 62
Summary: Hermione knows it's only two more days until the weekend. Will she be able to hold out in spite of feeling ill and to hide her illness from Harry, Ron, and McGonagall? AU, sick!Hermione. Written for Healer Pomfrey's writing contest.


**Ill on the First School Day in the New Year by Minerva McGonagall 62**

_For Healer Pomfrey's writing contest! Thanks to Healer Pomfrey for betaing!_

_Everything here belongs to JK Rowling. I own none of this.__ I'm not an English native speaker. Please excuse my mistakes._

* * *

Hermione eagerly opened her eyes at the sound of her room mates' getting ready for school. '_Ah, it's good to be back to Hogwarts; as much as I enjoyed Christmas, I'm looking forward to classes_.' She sat up, noticing that the room began to turn around, so she had to lie down again for a minute, before she could try to sit up a bit more slowly this time. '_I hope I won't be getting ill now_,' she mused, getting aware of a dull ache behind her temples. She slowly got up and dressed, putting a layer more on than normal just to be sure, because the air in the dormitory seemed to be fairly cold, before she dragged herself down to the common room, feeling somehow exhausted in spite of getting a good night's sleep.

Harry was waiting for her in the common room. "Good morning, Mione. Ron went ahead to breakfast. You know how hungry he always is."

"I know," Hermione replied and smiled at her friend, who threw her a worried look as he noticed that her smile didn't reach her eyes.

"Are you alright, Mione?" he asked as he adapted his walking speed to her slow pace.

"Yes of course," she replied briskly, trailing behind Harry into the Great Hall.

Seeing that their friend only played with her food, Harry and Ron worriedly fussed over her, causing the girl to sigh in exasperation.

"Harry, Ron, did you properly do your homework?" she queried to efficiently change the topic. "What did you put as result for the Potions essay?"

"Oh Mione, let's not talk about homework right now," Ron groaned, before he proceeded to tell Harry about his Christmas presents.

Their first class was Transfiguration, and Hermione slowly dragged herself up to the Transfiguration classroom, feeling utterly exhausted by the time she sat down between her two friends.

"Today, we're going to transfigure silent objects into those that let out sounds," McGonagall announced and showed her students the spell as she made a tiger coloured plush cat on her desk meow. With a flick of her wand, similar cats were sitting on all the students' desks, and the professor instructed them to commence.

Hermione tried in vain to concentrate on the spell. The dull ache she had been feeling behind her temples was turning into a tremendous headache, and she noticed that her throat was getting equally sore. '_I'm probably getting ill_,' she realized. '_But I have to try to make it until the weekend. It's already Wednesday, so there are only two more days to go apart from today_.'

"Ms. Granger, do you believe this practice is too easy for you?" the stern voice of her Head of House suddenly penetrated his ear.

"Oh no, Professor, I'm sorry," she apologized and once more tried to concentrate on the spell. After a few inefficient tries, she sighed, leaning back in her seat.

"Mione, are you all right?" Harry asked worriedly, laying an icy cold hand on hers. "You're very warm," he whispered. "Why don't you tell Professor McGonagall that you don't feel well?"

"No," Hermione hissed in exasperation, throwing Harry a glare that told him not to inform anyone of her problem.

"Ms. Granger, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said annoyed. "Shut up and practise if you don't want to write lines because of disturbing my class."

For the rest of the class, Hermione did her best to concentrate, unaware of the teacher's concerned look when she didn't manage to perform the spell until the end of the class.

If Hermione had thought the Transfiguration class was bad, Potions was even worse. She sat next to Pansy Parkinson, with whom the professor had paired her, and feverishly tried to concentrate. However, her worsening health condition kept her thoughts turning away from the potion she was trying to brew. The pain in her throat as well as her headache worsened by the hour, and she began to feel hot and cold at the same time.

Suddenly feeling dizzy on top of everything else, she closed her eyes for a few seconds, which were enough for the potion to let out an angry hiss and explode.

"Granger!" the professor hissed angrily. "Get out of my sight NOW. Detention tonight at eight o'clock!"

As fast as she could, Hermione left the classroom and slowly dragged herself back to her dormitory since she had no intention of attending lunch anyway. Still sweating and shivering badly, she put one of her warm Weasley sweaters on and let herself sink onto her bed, closing her hurting eyes in relief.

The next thing she knew was that Ginny was sitting on the edge of her bed and placed a cold hand on her forehead. "Hermione, are you alright? I think you have a fever. Shall I call Professor McGonagall or Madam Pomfrey?"

"No," Hermione croaked, gasping at the sound of her own voice. "Thanks for waking me up. I have to attend my afternoon classes."

"Ron and Harry are waiting in the common room. They sent me, because they were so worried," Ginny explained softly.

Hermione wearily followed her friends down to Hagrid's hut, regretting that she didn't skip the class before it even started. By the time class was over, she felt absolutely ill and only wanted to retreat to her bed.

"I'm going to skip History of Magic," she told her friends. "Can you please wake me up in time for my detention with Professor Snape?"

"No, we can't, because we can't get up to your dormitory," Ron replied softly.

"Mione, go and lie down in my bed. That way we'll be able to look after you," Harry told the girl, and seeing that she was hesitating, he decided, "I'm going to miss History of Magic too. I'll accompany you, Mione."

Together, the two friends slowly headed back to Gryffindor, where Harry led Hermione into his own dormitory, making her lie down in his bed. He fetched a cloth from the bathroom, which he cooled in cold water, before he gently laid it onto her forehead, frowning at the heat of her skin. While he still pondered if he should take her temperature, the girl drifted off to sleep. Knowing that Hermione wouldn't want to eat anything for dinner, Harry just let her sleep and asked Ron to bring a sandwich for him, which he devoured quickly, before he had to wake the girl up for her detention.

"Hermione, wake up. Your detention is going to start in thirty minutes," he told her softly, while he gently bathed her hot face with the refreshed cool cloth.

When Hermione opened her eyes, everything around her was blurry. "Harry?" she queried, while she reached out for his hand.

"Mione, you're ill. I don't think you're able to serve detention tonight," he replied in a soft voice.

"But I have to hold out until the weekend, can't get ill on the first day of classes," Hermione croaked hoarsely, before she wearily put a hand to her forehead as a violent shiver shook her body.

"No Hermione," Harry said in determination. "I'm going to fetch McGonagall. You're in no condition to get up, let alone serve detention. Alright?"

"Kay," Hermione mumbled, closing her eyes in relief.

A few minutes later, her favourite teacher's voice penetrated her mind. "Ms. Granger, can you open your eyes for me, please?"

Hermione wearily complied, turning half open glassy eyes to the teacher. "I think I can't go to my detention. Pfessor Snape will kill me," she whispered.

"He will not kill you, and you have to stay in bed since you're ill anyway," McGonagall replied. She pointed her wand to a tissue on the night table and transfigured it into a thermometer. "Can you open your mouth for me for a moment?" she asked gently, frowning as Hermione whispered, "No."

Sighing in growing concern, the teacher carefully waved her wand at the girl's clothing and spelled the thermometer under her armpit, before she gently took the girl's wrist to feel her pulse. A look on the display of the thermometer brought a shocked frown on the professor's face. She conjured a stretcher, before she said softly, "Ms. Granger, you have a very high fever, and I need to take you to the hospital wing. I'm going to levitate you onto a stretcher now."

"Kay," Hermione whispered, feeling too ill to care what was happening.

Fifteen minutes later, Madam Pomfrey put her wand away and stated, "You have the Muggle flu, Ms. Granger. I'm afraid that I can't give you anything for that except from a fever reducer. You'll have to stay here in this bed for about a week."

Hermione felt too bad to mind, especially as Harry and Professor McGonagall joined her in the beds on both sides of her with the same symptoms two days later. '_Together with my best friend and my favourite teacher being ill is not the end of the world_,' she mused as she drifted off into fevered dreams.

FIN


End file.
